The Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Interview
Madison Bradshaw was once a literary agent, who specialized in securing publishers for the piles of children’s literature that found their way to her desk. Everything from imitations of Alexander and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day, to original tales of tiny squirrels making their homes in hut-sized nuts across the forests.
Madison has just finished an interview, which felt like a total flop. She starts to blame herself for not being very articulate. But when she looks back on the previous hour, she realizes that (with all due respect) her budding employer wasn’t so perfect herself. She stops chewing on her nails, and convinces herself that the meeting could have run more smoothly if the interviewer had considered a few things.
The interviewer talked too much! When the woman began to talk about the company’s history, I was genuinely interested. The organization donates their money to literacy charities and writing centers which use innovative methods to help children read and write. They also seem like a tight-knit group of people and I found the office décor, which the woman alluded to often, quirky and colorful. However, after about thirty minutes of non-stop chatter, without offering me a chance to assert my opinions, my neck tightened up. I could feel myself spoiling like day-old Chinese takeout. I lost interest in saying anything.
Had she engaged me in conversation, I would have come off as the bright, enthusiastic woman I am. Yeah…Yeah! I’m a good candidate for this position, and the recruiter is just as responsible for her interview etiquette as I am. Fantastic, this feels good. What else didn’t seem right?”
She didn’t seem acquainted with my qualifications! I’ve worked with two of the biggest educational publishing companies in the US in both sales and editorial. Based on the ad posted on the online job board, these guys were looking for a detail-oriented person, who could occasionally pry his or her nose out of the fine print and schmooze around. There is no doubt: I’m an expert on sweating the small stuff! Details are important, and if someone thinks there are four typos in their manuscript, I’ll catch five. And hell, I used to sell subscriptions to people. I know how to make friends.
These were key positions in my resume. She didn’t refer to them specifically. It was as if she had scrambled to find my documents just before I came in, scanned over them quickly, while simultaneously pressing her jacket and fixing her hair. I skipped my morning run to do additional research, be prepared, for this? Sitting with a belly full of nervous energy I would have appreciated my interviewer having some familiarity with my background. To conduct a good interview, you need to be acquainted with who you’re interviewing.
She didn’t ask the right questions! Probably because she hadn’t done her homework. She used really broad prompts to stimulate dialogue, such as “tell me a little about yourself”, and “what did you learn in the publishing industry?” I had expected her to lead the interview, so I was tongue-tied when suddenly I had to drift into a monologue. It seemed to me that she preferred the method of two people talking at each other. The result, a conversation without dynamic—I felt disconnected.
If she had asked me what my greatest challenge was transitioning from an editorial assistant to a sales representative, I would have gushed about how strange it was to be a salesperson after having grown so accustomed to silent immersion with the books and proposals. But I’d succeeded in my new profession, because ultimately, I was rallying for a cause that I cared about so much. I would have said all this, and she could have determined my strengths, weaknesses, work ethic, and personality via one good question.
Her behavior was too casual for comfort! I appreciate it when people make me feel comfortable by being casual with their body language and expectations, because I can be just a little on edge sometimes (no run equals a nervous nancy). But it seemed to me she didn’t have an established set of rules for the interview. I got the impression that she was a very flexible supervisor, but she couldn’t be firm and make her requirements known.
She often waved her hand dismissively, as if to say, “Anything goes in this office.” I think that sort of I-am so-chill attitude would ultimately make my efforts seem pointless, especially being a perfectionist. I went to this job interview hoping to be recognized for my unique abilities, but instead, I felt like I was auditioning for membership in an every-one’s-welcome club that would accept me for merely being a human being with hand-eye coordination. In general, I came out feeling muddled. It’s not that the employer had rejected me. It’s that the employer expressed no curiosity in my potential. When she compared me to other job seekers, she made no distinctions; I was as good as anyone and as unfit as anyone in her eyes. And let’s face it: I’m fantastic! That is that.